you dipped you banana in queso last night.
Just think, this time last Cinco de Mayo you were holding me up and finding me passed out in the yard of that house.
I feel like a fucking princess. Like an heiress of a kingdom of drugs.
I feel like I knew it was fucked up, but feared that god would take my dick away if I didn't use it last night.
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He's a little cute, in a dorky, I-know-for-a-fact-his-cock-is-huge kind of way
Anyhow, I am sorry for being obnoxious about wanting more sex and forcing you to eat lunchmeat off of my ginormous nipples. I knew that you weren't going to succumb to my pushy demands
I would like to apologize once again for rubbing your thigh with my hands and face for a very long time last night.
You disappeared for 10 minutes. Then came back with nothing but your boxers and a life jacket on to tell us we were all screwed when the flood came and you would be the only survivor.
The exact people you expect to find at a bar at 2pm are here. Come visit. We'd really like the company.
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I was going to learn how to knit but I got high instead.
YOU LICKED MY MAKEUP OFF.
Just a reminder- you dropped broccoli in my car and then felt bad for it and named him Henry
I know. I miss henry.
I still have that dildo-suction bruise on my forehead and this sweater STILL smells like my Christmas Eve vomit.
You have my heart. You only share my vagina.
Just so we're clear, drunk and naked is not appropriate attire for Thanksgiving. Do it this year and Grandma will ban you for life.
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